


Got Seven Women on My Mind

by searchingwardrobes



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Killian's back story, Killian's relationships with the women in his life, Neverland (Once Upon a Time)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-07 22:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11632887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/searchingwardrobes/pseuds/searchingwardrobes
Summary: There have been many women in Killian's life. Seven of them have made the biggest impression on him, pressing him onward to be the kind of man he always wanted to be.





	Got Seven Women on My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> * It's amazing how a single lyric from a song can inspire an entire fic. This story came to me in the car when the song "Take it Easy" by The Eagles came on. The title is a line from that song.   
> * The song Killian sings when he thinks of his mother is "Elves Lullaby" from The Hobbitt by JRR Tolkien.

**One – Elsbeth Jones**

              The sea is calm as glass, the air still and stifling. The sailors are antsy and on-edge, praying to every deity for wind. Rowers are sent to the galley every day to make some headway, and it’s exhausting work. Killian isn’t big or strong enough at just eight years of age, but Liam, at 12, is. The elder Jones collapses into his bunk each night with sore arms and blistered hands. Killian prays the wind comes soon so he can have his brother back.

              Perhaps his absence is why Killian’s mind is so distracted lately with thoughts of ginger curls and hazel eyes. His mother’s touch was always so gentle, her voice soft and lilting, her smile and eyes bright. So in contrast in every way to his father.

              He remembers her being sick; her eyes losing some of their brightness, and her laughter coming less often. But she still smiled. She still held him whenever he crawled into her sick bed. She still kissed him with her soft lips.

Killian remembers she would sing, too, with that lilting voice that was so different from father’s. Brennan Jones said her voice was unique to her “kind,” something Killian had never quite understood. He also remembers his mother saying that “her people’s blood” ran through Killian’s veins. He didn’t understand that either. But he did know how much he liked her lullabies. He begins to sing one now as he knots rope.

_Sing we now softly, and dreams let us weave him!_

_Wind him in slumber and there let us leave him!_

_The wanderer sleepeth, now soft be his pillow!_

_Lullaby! Lullaby! Alder and Willow!_ __  
  


Killian jumps as a bottle of rum shatters against the railing to his right.

“Shut up, boy, and get back to work!”

              But to Killian’s surprise, the other sailors yell at the first to leave him alone. The lullaby reminds them of home, they say, so let the boy sing. And sing he does, passing the days until the winds came again.

**Two – Milah**

As a teenager, Killian’s notice of the opposite sex had never been more than that – a passing notice of appreciation. How could he be bold enough to approach a fair lass when he had nothing of value to offer? Then, as a young man in the royal navy, he was too busy with his training to think of wooing any ladies. He had attended balls; had flirted and learned to waltz, but stolen kisses with giggling maidens were shallow and immature.

              There was nothing shallow or immature, however, about the woman he had met the night before. A woman, not a mere girl. Killian Jones didn’t say this simply because of the obvious age difference, but because of the weight she carried upon her shoulders. She was trapped; he could see it in her eyes. A woman such as her was meant for more than a patch of dirt for the rest of her life. She was meant to see the world. He longed to offer her that.

              All of these thoughts were tumbling through Killian’s mind as he approached the tavern, hoping she would be there again. He stepped through the door, and the tavern keeper’s buxom daughter breathed his name as she sauntered past with her tankard. A wench in the corner gave him a little wave and a wink. Yes, he was no longer a slave boy nor a naval lieutenant. He now knew his way around women. But there was only one woman on his heart and mind tonight.

              He ignored his admirers, his gaze fixed on the table in the far corner. He stopped in front of it and leaned down to look in the steely gray eyes of the woman who had haunted his dreams the night before.

              “Hello, Milah. Is this seat taken?”

 

**Three – Tiger Lily**

Skull Rock is a hulking menace in the distance, staring at Captain Hook with vacant eyes as he rows across the choppy waters. Rowing isn’t easy with one hand, even with his hook, and he wishes he’d thought to bring Smee along. Bumbler he may be, but at least the man can row.

              Killian curses himself, because – once again – he has mucked everything up. Just like with Ursula, he has probably once again turned a potential ally into an enemy. If Tiger Lily lives, that is.

              Curse that wretched demon of a boy! When would Killian get it through his thick head that Pan’s games were never fair? He had betrayed Tiger Lily for a chance off the island, but it had all been a charade. He had betrayed her, but he never wanted her dead. He just prayed he wasn’t too late.

              The tide was rising faster, filling up the cavernous, yawning mouth of Skull Rock. Killian rowed harder. He thought of his friend as he rowed. Friends were rare in his life, especially these days, and the raven haired fairy had been a bright spot on this accursed island. Granted, she had almost killed him with an arrow when first they met, mistaking him for a lost boy. But after that silly misunderstanding, they had become fast friends as she taught him all she knew about the island – and how to outsmart Pan and his lost ones.

              Breaking into Pan’s camp had been Tiger Lily’s idea to begin with. They both needed the same thing, after all: pixie dust in order to get back to The Enchanted Forest. But as was so often the case, Pan knew they were coming, and had set a trap. Then he had offered Hook a deal.

              Killian swore again as the waves crashed against boulders as he drew closer to his destination. Pan and his bloody games. The instant Hook agreed to the deal, Pan sadistically informed him that he had sealed Tiger Lily’s fate. She had refused his deal, trusting that Hook would refuse as well. Why did anyone ever trust him? Ursula shouldn’t have trusted him; neither should Tiger Lily. He just prayed it didn’t cost the fairy her life.

              Killian’s row boat was almost knocked sideways as he made his way through the mouth of Skull Rock. There was Tiger Lily, lifting her chin to call for help. The water splashed into her mouth, and her thick braids floated on the surface of the water. Killian abandoned the boat; there was no more time. He dove beneath the waves, kicking his way to where Tiger Lily was tied to a rock. He came up for air in time to see Tiger Lily’s wide and panicked eyes just as the tide completely closed over her. Killian inhaled deeply and dove back under, hacking at the thick rope with his hook. Finally, it broke free.

              Killian grabbed Tiger Lily around the waist and kicked upward. When they surfaced, they both gasped for air. The waves were beating harder, sending the row boat farther away from them. If they didn’t catch up to it soon, water would completely fill the cavern, and they would both drown. Tiger Lily didn’t need any instruction; she kicked her legs and swam alongside him. When they reached the side of the boat, Killian pushed her inside, then shoved the row boat through the opening of Skull Rock that had become the narrowest of exits. Killian dove under to follow the boat.

              He swam with long strokes as far as he could, hoping he had cleared the rocks. When he broke the surface, gasping for air, he was relieved to find himself in the open air. A hand reached down, and Tiger Lily hauled him over and into the boat. He barely had time to catch a breath before her hand connected with his cheek. The sound of her slap echoed across the water.

              “What the bloody hell was that for?” he shouted.

              “Hook, you are a dirty pirate, and I never want to speak to you again.” She yelled, crossing her arms over her chest.

              She refused to help him row.

 

**Four – Wendy**

Captain Hook suppressed the urge to gut his men. Was there ever a sorrier, more selfish lot? Okay, he was rather sorry and selfish himself, but Wendy was just a little girl. He had seen a bit of the slave boy he had once been in her terrified eyes when she first arrived in Neverland, and had risked his life to rescue her. Felix would forever bear the scars of that little encounter.

              He had instructed Wendy to stay under the protection of Tinker Bell and Tiger Lily. He had made it clear that their section of the jungle was protected with fairy magic; there she would be safe. But apparently all women were given a stubborn streak from birth because even the ten year old lass didn’t bloody listen. The little ones need a mother, she said. They cry and Pan just laughs, she said. They could be my little brothers, John and Michael, she had said.

              Hook sighed as he cut through a particularly thick part of the jungle. She didn’t have to explain; he heard the cries well enough himself. It was one of the constant agonies of this accursed place. The gut-wrenching sobs that no one else on the Jolly Roger could hear but himself.

              “Here we are,” Hook said as he stepped out of the thick foliage and into a small clearing. Right in front of them was the entrance to a cave.

              “So what do we do now, Captain?” Smee asked, nervously twisting his cap in his hands.

              “Yeah, Cap’n,” one of the other men piped up, “this cave looks – unnatural, sir. Full of dark magic, I wager.”

              Killian rolled his eyes, “This whole island _is_ dark magic, you twit.” He took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

              “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

              Hook tried to hide his discomfort as Pan materialized right in front of the cave’s entrance. The imp smirked.

              “Let me guess,” Hook said drolly, “there’s some sick game you’ve concocted.”

              “Not a game,” Pan clarified with mock offense, “just facts. These are the Echo Caves. The deeper the lie, the louder its echo.”

              “And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?” Hook spat.

              Pan shrugged as he walked away. “If you want to help Wendy, you’ll have to spill your secrets.” Then the demon boy was gone.

              Hook took a deep breath as he plunged into the cave, and his men reluctantly followed. Once inside, they found a deep chasm. Far on the other side was a crude cage, and inside Hook recognized the matted blonde curls of Wendy Darling.

              The next hour was filled with horror and tragedy as they tried one thing after another to cross the chasm: a rope to swing across, the log of a fallen tree. And with every attempt, several men of his crew were obliterated in a flash of magic. They screamed as flames engulfed them, then nothing but a pile of ash was left behind. Those who were left wanted to flee and leave the girl to her fate, but the threat of Killian’s hook in their throats held them in place. Killian mulled over Pan’s words.

              “Mr. Smee,” Killian said to the most loyal member of his crew, “what do you do at night to help you sleep?”

              Smee’s face turned bright red at the question. It was unfair, Hook knew, to use this little bit of knowledge against the man. It wasn’t his fault he sometimes talked in his sleep. When the man shook his head, pressing his lips together, Hook stepped quickly into his personal space and pointed his hook at the man’s belly.

              “Answer the question, _mate_.”

              Smee lowered his head and mumbled softly, “I think of my mummy.”

              Hook’s crew began to laugh at first, until the cave shook violently. A few feet of a stone bridge made its way across the chasm towards Wendy. One by one, Hook’s crew spilled their secrets. If not willingly, at the point of Hook’s curved steel. Eventually, the bridge made it all the way across and Hook hurried to the imprisoned child.

              “Hook!” she cried out, tears staining her cheeks.

              “Yes, I’m here, lass,” he told her. “I’ll have you out in no time.”

              He pulled on the cage’s crude door, thinking it would open easily. It was built by lost boys, after all, of haphazardly placed bamboo sticks. But Pan must have enchanted it, because it wouldn’t budge. His hook did no good, either.

              “Hook,” Wendy finally said softly, “I think you know what you have to do.”

              Killian sighed and pressed his forehead against the cage. He looked into Wendy’s terrified brown eyes. Her vulnerability gave him courage. He took a deep breath, and then confessed, only loud enough for Wendy to hear, “I am a lost boy. An orphan.”

              Wendy’s cage dissolved instantly. The little girl cried out happily and threw her skinny arms around his neck.

              “Your secret’s safe with me, Hook,” she whispered. “No one else will ever know that you’re a lost boy, too.”

 

**Five – Tinker Bell**

              The blonde pixie’s curls were a riotous mess upon her head as she rolled over towards Hook. Her eyes blinked open sleepily as she sat up in her hammock, wrapping her scant blanket around herself. Hook looked back at her as he tightened the strap on his brace. He turned his back to her as he began to speak, doing up the buttons of his shirt with his good hand.

              “You’re usually still asleep when I leave,” he commented casually.

              “Don’t worry,” Tinker Bell sighed as she curled back up in her hammock, “I’m not expecting anything.”

              Hook chuckled as he slipped his arms into his coat. “I told Tiger Lily you and I had an understanding.”

              Tink laughed as well, “She’s just still sore about Skull Rock. And she worries I’m going to do something stupid like fall in love with you.”

              Killian arched a brow at the pixie as he clicked his hook into place. “Many a lass has, my dear.”

              Tinker Bell rolled her eyes. “Please, Hook. Don’t flatter yourself.”

              “Well then, fairy, I’ll be off. Pan has another job for me.”

              “Wait!” Tink called, stopping him before he descended the ladder of her tree house.

              He turned to her as she stepped closer, setting her small hand on his elbow. “Do you remember that tiny bit of pixie dust I found in the trees? I used it. For you.”

              Killian searched her green eyes, worried for a moment that Tiger Lily’s concerns had been warranted. But the difference he detected in her eyes wasn’t any fondness for him, or at least he didn’t think so. Tinker Bell wasn’t exactly an enigma; she wore her giant heart on her sleeve. Even being banished to this despicable place hadn’t snuffed out her light. The physical pleasure she found in his arms were the same as it was for him; a distraction from the nightmares and the regrets.

              He shook his head. “You used the pixie dust on me? Why would you waste it like that?”

              She grinned widely. “I didn’t waste it. Your true love, Killian. She awaits you in The Enchanted Forest.”

              Killian laughed aside Tink’s proclamation. “You’ve been out of practice, little fairy,” he called up to her as he quickly made his way down the ladder.

              “Mark my words, Killian, you’ll find her!” Tink called after him. “You’ll know I speak the truth when Pan lets you leave the island. It will be a sign!”

              Hook laughed again. As if that would ever happen.

**Six – Emma Swan**

_Not a day will go by that I won’t think of you._

And not a day had. Some days, Killian Jones wished he could forget. Tried to forget. But he could find no relief from the sweet torture that were memories of Emma Swan. He rare smiles, her golden hair, the flash of fire in her jade eyes. The intoxicating taste of her lips, the smell of cinnamon that clung to her skin, even in the heat of Neverland. The feel of her hair, like silken, spun gold. But most of all, he thought of her spirit, her goodness. The way they understood one another. The way she had awakened his soul out of the darkness that had seemed his eternal damnation.

              Hope had alighted in his heart again, and no matter how hard he tried to reason it away, explain to it that Emma Swan was gone forever, that hope refused to fly away.

              Killian lifted the shimmering bean and examined it in the light. Turns out that stubborn hope hadn’t clung to his soul in vain. He held the bean tightly between his fingers, then kissed it. Blackbeard had mocked him mercilessly when he traded his ship for it. The damn, sorry excuse for a pirate insisted Killian give him the reason he needed a bean. Wouldn’t trade until he admitted what he needed it for. He supposed the man was still rather irritated that he was almost food for the sharks. Time was of the essence, so Killian quickly told his tale. Blackbeard had thrown his head back and laughed until he was breathless. A woman? So the rumors were true; Killian Jones _had_ gone soft, and all over a woman.

              Killian fisted the bean in his hand. It was no matter. So maybe he had gone “soft,” who cared? Hopefully, in the eyes of Emma Swan, he had become a hero. If so, then it was all worth it. Worth the ridicule, worth the shame of crawling to Blackbeard.

              Worth the Jolly Roger.

              It was even worth his own life, if it came to that. So he tossed the bean upon the ground and jumped, thinking of Emma Swan.

              The woman he loved.

 

**Seven – Hope**

David’s laughter over the phone warmed Killian’s heart. After so much struggle and loss, it was wonderful to have good news to share for once. Killian laughed too as Snow wrestled the phone away from her husband.

              “Men never ask the right questions,” she chuckled, “now, how much did she weigh? How long? What color is her hair? Her eyes?”

              Killian laughed again, merrily, “Seven pounds, four ounces, 18 ½ inches long. Her hair – well, there isn’t much of it, but it’s . . . like peach fuzz.”

              “It’s red?”

              He could hear the confusion in Snow’s voice and clarified, “Aye, my mother was a red head.”

              “Oh,” Snow said softly, “Killian, that’s . . . “ her voice broke for a moment, “that’s wonderful.”

              “And I don’t know about her eyes yet,” he continued, “she was yelling so much, she didn’t open them.”

              “That means she takes after her grandmother,” David quipped in the background.

              “Hey!” Snow protested.

              Killian’s grin felt as if it might split his face as he hung up with his in-laws. He clutched the phone tightly in his hand and pressed it to his lips. The smile still gracing his face, he made his way down the hall to the room where his wife and baby daughter lay. He stood in the doorway watching Emma nurse their little girl. He had never seen a smile so wide as the one that graced his wife’s face as she gazed down at little Hope. She traced a finger down Hope’s downy cheek and murmured loving words. Killian’s chest constricted at the sight.

              Emma looked up and saw him standing there. “Come quick,” she said, gesturing, “her eyes are open.”

              Killian moved over to the bed and looked down at where Hope suckled at her mother’s breast. Her tiny hand clenched and unclenched against her mother’s fair skin, and her wide eyes darted about the room as she ate. They were a bright blue, just like his.

              “See,” Emma whispered as she looked up at him with adoration, “she has your eyes.”

              Killian blinked, tears welling up unbidden. “Can I hold her?” he asked tentatively. “I mean, when she’s finished.”

              “Of course you can,” Emma chuckled, “you don’t have to ask. You’re her father!”

              Hope finished eating and Emma handed her to Killian as she adjusted her hospital gown. “She needs to be burped,” Emma told him, “so hold her against your shoulder and pat her back gently.”

              Killian was a little worried about his hook as he gingerly position Hope against his left shoulder, but Emma showed nothing but confidence in his abilities as a father. Once he had the wee one secured by the crook of his arm, he began rubbing gentle circles on her back with his good hand. She was so soft in his arms, and so tiny. He pressed his face against her downy head and breathed her in.

              “She smells so good, doesn’t she?” Emma laughed.

              Killian could only nod, not trusting his voice. A burp come from the little one’s throat, a much larger one than he would have thought possible from one so small, and he chuckled. Then Hope gave a contented sigh that shuddered throughout her entire diminutive body. She curled into an even tighter ball than she was already in, nestled firmly in the crook of his neck. So vulnerable, so trusting, it overwhelmed him. He suddenly felt that every moment of his life had prepared him, led him, straight here.

              To love this tiny lass so aptly named Hope.

**Author's Note:**

> * The bit about Wendy is kind of a "deleted scene" from another fic of mine called "Defender of the Weak." Go check that out if you want more on my head canon about Hook's relationship with Wendy. (Sorry/not sorry for the shameless self-promotion! Wow, that was also some serious alliteration there!)


End file.
